


Run

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [28]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Dad!Kevin, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting, cheddar is a good boi, dad!holt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: When Roger came home drunk, Jake would run.This time, he ends up at Holt's house.Request fic!
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt
Series: Foray into B99 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 79
Kudos: 535





	1. Chapter 1

When Roger came home drunk, Jake would run.

It just made the most sense. If the angry drunk person wanted to hit you, get out of the range of their hands.

He hadn’t realized until later on that that meant he was leaving his mom to deal with him herself.

Jake had been too young to get that right away. But, once he did… well, he stopped running. Every hit to him meant one less to her, right?

And he could usually outlast Roger, at least when it came to consciousness-wise. Jake never passed out from pain, but Roger would usually fall asleep. And then his mom wouldn’t get hurt.

So Jake knew two things. One, how to run away from problems. And two, running from problems usually just shove said problem onto someone else.

In this case, though, it was just him. Roger was screaming in his face about dating a Latina - which, rude, considering the dear pilot had no problem fucking anyone with a pulse on the whole damn continent - in his apartment.

Jake should have stayed quiet. Amy wouldn’t care about her honor being defended to scum like Roger - she had taken one look at the scars that dotted Jake’s skin and decided that if she ever met his father, she would eviscerate him.

But he couldn’t fucking bring himself not to say something - he’d punched Jimmy Brogan for less - and he couldn’t help but say,

“Roger, shut the fuck up about Amy!” He knew he would regret it the instant the words left his mouth. But he found he didn't care.

Roger slammed Jake against the wall, and he felt his head bounce off of it, although that was eclipsed by the pain that sprang across his back at the rough treatment. A hand gripped his throat.

“Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you stupid piece of shit!” Roger snarled, fingers tightening. “I am your father! And no son of mine will be rejecting our family for the sake of some…”

“Don’t you say-” Jake choked out, but Roger’s grip just tightened further. Compressing his throat to the point that Jake couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. He felt like his airway was going to collapse under the pressure.

He had panicked. He shouldn’t use his police training on Roger, he knew that - but the minute his vision started to spot his body reacted.

A kick to the dick, and a punch to the nose, and Roger was stumbling back, hand releasing from its vice to clutch at his now-profusely bleeding nose.

“You _fucking_ \- you-” Roger spat.

Roger was mad. He was going to hurt someone.

Jake’s mom wasn’t here. Amy wasn’t here. No one was expected to come by his apartment. Least of all Roger, but, well, semantics.

So Jake decided that, since there was no one else for the problem to fall onto…

He ran.

He ran and didn’t stop.

He ran until he couldn’t, and then kept running after that. When he finally stopped, bent over and heaving for oxygen as his body reminded him that he needed to hit the gym more, Jake took stock of the situation. Well, he was certainly far enough from Roger for him to no longer be a problem. That was a pro.

In the con department, Jake realized, he didn’t have his phone with him. Or his keys. Or his wallet. Or his ID. Or really anything that would get him back to his place. With any luck, by the time he walked back Roger would be... no longer an issue.

Roger would fall asleep cursing his son’s name, and then wake up with no memory of what had occurred. That was usually the case, when it came to him.

Jake straightened up, hoping that he would recognize something, anything as being a marker of where he needed to go.

Jake blinked. Then laughed, breathless and a bit manic.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Captain Holt’s home stood before him, Jake just in front of it.

“No way.” He muttered, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. “No _fucking_ way.”

He had just been… well, running. He hadn’t intended to come here. Hadn’t really intended to run to any specific place, just… to run. Jake had just wanted to get away… but, also, Holt’s house was this close to his? Sorta weird. He could totally exploit that in the future.

Oh, well. At least he knew where he was. Jake turned, ready to head back. He was going to walk this time, he decided. He wasn’t Terry, after all, his body had limits.

Limits that were lower than usual, it seemed, given by the way his entire body began aching the minute he started trudging back in the direction he’d come.

Well. He could sit here, for just a minute. He doubted Holt would mind if he… borrowed some staircase to sit on for a bit. Jake sat down heavily, realizing belatedly that, given how much his back hurt, the likelihood of him being able to get back up were slim to none.

Breathing hurt - the cold air sending slivers of pain down his already-aching throat.

Jake closed his eyes. He just needed a moment, to gather his thoughts, that was all. Then he’d get up.

Just for a moment.

He woke up to a hand on his shoulder.

Jake shot up, staring, wide-eyed, at the face of Captain Raymond Holt. For a brief, disorienting moment, Jake couldn’t remember where he was - before the pain crashed down around him and he was all too aware of the situation at hand.

And, more importantly, the embarrassment.

It was well into sunset, and Jake had been sleeping on his Captain’s porch for the better part of a few hours.

“Peralta, what are you doing outside of my home?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Jake rubbed at his eyes, “Sorry, Sir. I was just…” He trailed off, unable to think of a single viable excuse. His throat ached at speaking, so he instead just sort of trailed off.

Holt was staring at him.

Jake could see Kevin a few feet further behind, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

They were both dressed, well, not to the nines per se, but definitely fancy.

“Sorry, is it… were you guys having date night?” Jake asked hoarsely, changing the topic. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just… go.” Jake moved to step past Holt, but he raised a hand to stop him.

Jake flinched back, nearly tripping over the steps as he did so. “Sorry.” He said automatically - what he was apologizing for, he didn’t know.

“There is no need to apologize.” Holt’s mouth twitched slightly towards a frown. “Please, come in.”

“No, that’s okay. I should… I should be heading back soon.” He winced as his voice crackled.

Holt studied him for a moment, appraising. “Well, at least stop inside for a few minutes. Cheddar enjoys guests.”

The allure of Cheddar was too high, and Jake acquiesced. “Okay, yeah. Just for a sec though. I do need to get going.”

“Very well.” Holt unlocked the door, and Jake followed him in - Kevin a step behind him.

Cheddar padded over, Holt bending down to give him a pat, while Kevin locked the door behind them and flicked on the light.

Jake realized belatedly that he probably looked like a fucking mess. _Shit._

“Peralta,” Kevin said sharply.

Jake smiled awkwardly at Kevin. “Yeah?” He asked innocently.

“Your neck is… injured to some capacity.”

“Hm?” The humming noise _really_ hurt. Jake made a mental note to not do that again. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it.”

Holt had turned as well, and was eyeing Jake’s face and neck critically.

“Jacob, why don’t you take a seat.”

“Oh, uh-” Jake turned, but Kevin was still standing by the door, blocking him in - whether that was intentional or not, Jake wasn’t sure - so he couldn’t run.

He hated being trapped.

In his apartment, he had kept himself between Roger and the door. Always a way out. Here… here he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t run.

Jake tried to force a grin. “I really do need to get going.”

But Holt and Kevin just kept looking at him, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Jake grimaced, and then sat down on the floor - stretching his hands out to Cheddar, who obligingly pattered over to flop down in front of him.

“Jacob, what has happened?” Holt asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Jake shrugged, then immediately regretted the action - unable to contain a slight gasp at the pain that shot across his shoulders.

“I do not believe you.” Holt replied simply, sitting down - in a chair, as opposed to the floor as Jake was. Kevin moved as well, sitting at a chair.

Jake could run now. The path to the door was clear.

But Jake didn’t think he’d be able to get to his feet again without some serious effort, and he was sure Holt would be able to catch him relatively easily. So instead he didn’t reply, just scratching behind Cheddar’s ears. Avoiding the implied question in Holt’s statement.

They sat in silence - neither of them willing, or daring, to budge - so it came as a surprise when Kevin finally spoke.

“Enough of this. Peralta, you’re clearly injured. Let us help you.”

“I don’t need-” Jake choked on the words, throat aching so much that he could barely speak.

“Mm, it appears that you do, in fact, ‘need’ our aid.” Kevin replied cockily, before adding, more subdued, “Look, we won’t ask you questions. We don’t need to know what happened. Just let us make sure you’re okay.”

“Promise no questions?” Jake choked.

“No questions about what happened.” Holt affirmed.

“Okay. Okay.” Jake replied, “Go ahead.”

Holt got to his feet, crouching in front of him. One hand reached out towards Jake’s face, and he flinched back from it.

“Sorry.” Jake said quickly, voice grating.

“It’s alright.” Holt said, “Try not to speak.”

Jake chewed on his lip, stroking Cheddar in a desperate attempt to keep himself together as Holt’s hands tilted his face to the side, inspecting his neck.

Kevin got up, and Jake tracked him with his eyes as he went out of the room. He returned soon enough, however, with a wrap ice pack wrapped in a dish towel, handing it to Holt. His gaze lingered on Jake’s neck, and he seemed hesitant to leave their side.

Kevin was a nice guy, although Jake never understood why he was willing to deal with his shenanigans. Jake wasn’t exactly easy for people like Kevin to get along with, after all.

Holt went to apply the ice pack to his neck, then hesitated. “Peralta, are you otherwise injured?”

Jake considered lying, but knew that one - or both - of them would call him on it instantly.

So, he begrudgingly pulled up his shirt, grimacing from the pain as he did so. He could feel the skin of his back tug, and realized that the collision must have caused some bleeding as well.

Holt made a slight noise in his throat, and Kevin left again.

“Is that everything?”

Jake nodded.

Holt seemed to have an odd expression on his face - genuine, legitimate concern. Beyond what Jake expected to see, that was for sure.

“Jacob, are you _sure_?”

Jake nodded again. Holt didn’t seem entirely convinced - Jake wasn’t sure what Holt thought he was hiding from him - but didn’t press it again. For now, anyway, he let the topic rest.

Kevin returned, another few icepacks in hand. He looked a bit… off. Jake felt his shoulders tense at that - he was sort of trapped between them, even if Kevin was giving him plenty of space - but Cheddar under his hands did help to sooth him, just a bit.

Holt shifted to inspect Jake’s back critically, fingers probing at spots - Jake let out a hiss as a finger brushed against a particularly painful spot - and Holt murmured an apology.

“It appears nothing is broken.” Holt said finally, “There is bruising, and some abrasions that appear to be from collision with a surface.”

Jake neither confirmed nor denied the extrapolation, and Holt didn’t push him on it - after all, he had promised not to ask anything. Directly, anyways.

Holt just wrapped the pack around Jake’s neck - hands much more gentle than Jake believed possible.

“Lay down, I’ll put the others on your back.” Holt muttered.

Jake obligingly laid down, Cheddar using it as an excuse to snuggle closer. The cold press on his back shocked him a bit, but Holt patted his arm reassuringly.

“Thanks.” Jake said hoarsely, his already compromised voice muffled by Cheddar’s floofy belly.

Jake probably should leave. The longer he stayed, the more questions they would start to have. The more they would take stock of his injuries.

But... Jake didn't really want to run, right now. Kevin and Holt wouldn't hurt him.

He was _safe_ here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently people really like my Father Feels Ft. Holt and Kevin, so here we are!
> 
> Total request/s:  
>  _hi!! your b99 fox’s are AMAZING!!! could you do (another) fic where jakes dad physically abused jake and he hides out in holt and kevin’s house and there is some dad!holt and dad!kevin! thanks :)_ and _hey i love your writing! can I request a fic with some more Jake angst and holt/kevin helping him? it’s cliche but im a sucker for the found family feelz!_
> 
> check it out, this is my 50th fic! super excited about that :D  
> also i love comments!!! hint hint <3


	2. Chapter 2

Jake must have dozed off, because he woke up to the sensation of a rough tongue licking his face. Squinting, he lifted his head off of the - oh, someone had put a pillow under his head. A nice upgrade from the wood floor - off the pillow to see Cheddar staring at him, wet nose an inch from his face.

“Hey buddy,” Jake said. Or, rather, tried to say. No sound came out of his mouth - not for lack of trying, however. Jake sat up quickly - dislodging the blanket draped on his back, it sliding to the floor beside him.

He brought one hand up to his neck, wincing at the sore skin there.

Oh. Right.

“Fuck.” Jake muttered - he couldn’t speak, still - and stared at Cheddar. Guess his voice was gone. Cool. Cool cool.

“Let’s go find your dads.” He mouthed at the dog, getting to his feet. Cheddar got up as well, following after Jake merrily as he wandered towards what he thought was the way to the upstairs. He’d only been here the once, at Holt’s birthday party, so the layout was a bit of a mystery.

Jake wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if he did find Holt and Kevin - he stopped. Wait. This was his chance.

He turned, walking back the way he’d come. The door was there, and Holt and Kevin weren’t. He could just… go. Jake glanced around. He didn’t see them anywhere, so he could probably just leave. Sure, it wasn’t like they were keeping him hostage or anything. But… he would rather not deal with their questions - even if they had promised not to ask any.

Ugh. But he couldn’t fucking speak. And even though it was getting light out, he had run here.

Okay, fine, so maybe leaving wouldn’t work.

Cheddar stared up at him, and Jake huffed out a breath of air, heading back towards the interior of the house. Maybe he could find something to entertain Cheddar with. He wasn’t really tired anymore, and lying back down on the wood floor with the intention of sleep seemed a bit too awkward for him to do a second time.

Fuck. He’d fallen asleep on his boss’ _floor_. Somehow, that was even more embarrassing than falling asleep on the fucking porch from before.

Jake walked past an open door, then doubled back. Holt and Kevin were sitting in some chairs, newspaper in hand.

Jake checked the clock. No, yeah, it was 6:36am. Fuck, they got up early.

He was deliberating between announcing his presence and just sneaking off to pretend to still be sleeping, when Cheddar made the decision for him, padding into the room with a jingle of his collar.

Holt and Kevin both turned, noting Cheddar’s presence, and then Jake’s.

“Ah, Jacob, you’re awake. Please, help yourself to some coffee.”

Jake nodded, putting on an attempt of a smile.

“Was your sleep adequate?” Holt asked.

Jake nodded again, sidling over to the coffee. They had made an extra cup for him.

Holt’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the lack of a response. “You normally tend to be more chatty, Peralta. Are you experiencing pain?”

Jake shook his head, then pointed to his throat. “I can’t speak.” He said - voice not present save for an awkward creaking sound.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “That seems concerning.”

“No, it’s normal after strangulation.” Holt replied, still eyeing Jake critically, “Normal in cases of extreme strangulation, I should clarify.”

Jake was glad he couldn’t speak - it was an excuse not to respond to Holt’s pointed statement - and instead just poured himself a cup.

He took a drink from it, and then immediately gagged when he tried to swallow, nearly spitting it onto the floor. He brought up one hand, barely containing a cough. “Sorry.” He mouthed automatically.

“It’s alright, Jacob.” Holt replied quickly, offering him a napkin, which Jake accepted gratefully.

“We can reapply the ice packs, they should help with the swelling.” Kevin offered.

Jake nodded, before looking down at Cheddar - realizing belatedly that his shirt was definitely still off. Kevin and Holt didn’t seem to care, but Jake felt embarrassed - he had a few scars here and there. Some from his job, most from Roger. He gestured awkwardly to his chest, and Kevin answered his unasked question.

“It’s in the dryer.”

Jake nodded, deciding to attempt another sip of coffee. It worked a little better, mostly because he was really focusing on it, but it hurt too much for him to want to do it again.

He put the mug down - Holt seeming to make a note of that - before awkwardly bending down to pet Cheddar again.

“Cheddar has taken a liking to you.” Kevin noted, “He is quite a good judge of character.”

Jake wasn’t sure how to respond to that - not that he could, anyway - so he ended up just smiling awkwardly and patting Cheddar again.

Holt and Kevin seemed content with the silence, and Jake couldn’t exactly break it, so he settled for lavishing Cheddar in affection.

Cheddar seemed to enjoy it, at any rate.

After a few minutes of silence - save for the rustling of newspaper - Kevin stood.

“The dryer should be done.” He commentated, answering Jake’s confused expression. Jake nodded, before hesitating - was he supposed to follow him? Probably.

Jake scurried after Kevin, Cheddar on his heels.

Kevin pulled the shirt out of the dryer, handing it to Jake - it was warm, sweet, one of life’s little pleasures - and Jake took it gratefully.

“Thanks.” He said automatically, before wincing - there was no sound, but _fuck_ did it hurt.

“No need for that.” Kevin shook his head, before directing Jake to the guest bathroom. Whether he was referring to the gratitude, or the speaking itself, Jake wasn’t entirely sure.

Jake closed the door, before leaning against it. Fuck. It was the first time he was alone - and conscious - since he’d sat down on Holt’s porch. His shirt was clenched in his hands, and he closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath, ignoring the tug on his throat as he did.

He wanted to laugh. Or maybe cry. Or scream - but, of course, he couldn’t do that, could he? His throat fucking hurt and he couldn’t even speak.

Well. At least it was an excuse not to have to try to have a conversation. The mental attempt at lightening the mood didn’t seem to work, so he just grimaced and stepped forward, intent on getting his shirt on without crying from the pain.

Jake noticed a mirror, and turned around, inspecting his back. Some bruises were spattered across his back - oddly, not as bad as he’d thought, although maybe that had to do with the fact that Holt and Kevin had actually taken care of them, instead of Jake just doing his normal thing of pretending they weren’t there in the first place. Still, there were a few - especially along his shoulder blades - that were a deep shade of purple. He could practically feel the pain amplify just by looking at them. There were a few scrapes on the lines of his shoulder blades, where the impact of the wall on his bones had caused his skin to split, but they had been patched up with some gauze and bandaging.

Huh. Holt - or maybe Kevin - must have done that while he was out of it.

Jake mentally shrugged - he wasn’t about to do it physically, that was for sure - and pulled on his shirt, hissing through his clenched teeth as the fabric scraped on his back. Still, he was relieved to have it back on - avoiding looking at injuries was one of his preferred coping mechanisms, after all.

Of course, there was no hiding… _that._

He frowned at his reflection, bringing up one hand to touch his neck hesitantly. A mass of bruising, in the rather distinctive shape of a hand, stretched across the front of his neck. It was an angry purple, deepening to near-blackness at the fingertips, and Jake barely brushed it before pulling back with a choked cry of pain.

Fuck, that hurt.

He leaned forward, turning his neck to inspect the damage, grimacing at the swelling - that was probably why he couldn’t really speak right now - but still. It didn’t look like there was any real damage, which was a bit of a relief. Although, he figured Holt and Kevin would’ve dragged him kicking and - well, not screaming - to the closest hospital if there was.

Jake looked away from his reflection - he didn’t want to keep looking at it, and honestly there was no way to cover up the gigantic fucking handprint on his throat, so he just opted to straighten his posture, and flash a smile at himself.

It looked fake.

It _was_ fake.

He stopped, then tried again - still a bit phony, but not too bad. It wouldn’t pass either of them, not really, but it was still a defense mechanism. Still a barrier between him and the pain.

Jake reopened the door, nearly tripping over Cheddar - who had decided to lay directly outside the door.

“Sorry.” Jake said silently, automatically. It hurt.

He really had to stop talking.

Jake walked back towards the room Holt and Kevin had been in, awkwardly tugging at his shirt collar - its rubbing against his neck was bothering him, but he refused to complain about it. Not that he really could, but still.

He doubled back as he came across Kevin, having now migrated to the entrance room. Holt nowhere to be seen.

He looked up at Jake. “Ah, you’ve returned. My husband has left, he should be back in approximately 1 hour.”

Jake wished he could ask questions - but Kevin simply gestured to a notepad and a pen. Offering a solution before Jake even had an opportunity to be concerned about the problem.

Jake scooped them up gratefully, turning the pen over in his hands. Not only was it hard to even think of what to ask, he felt weird talking - well, communicating, to be more accurate - with Kevin. It wasn’t like the man cared for him much.

After a moment, Jake wrote, “Where’d he go?” In his best handwriting, turning it to Kevin.

“Your apartment.” Kevin replied.

Jake choked on silence, quickly scrawling, “What, why?”

Kevin frowned. “He’s verifying it is a safe location to return you to.”

Jake scribbled, “You promised.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “We promised not to ask questions about what happened. Not that we wouldn’t be concerned for your safety.”

With an internal groan, Jake flopped down onto the floor. Fan-fucking-tastic. Cheddar stared at him, silently requesting more pets.

“Don’t pout.” Kevin said.

Jake turned to look up at him, surprised. Kevin shook his head.

“I was speaking to Cheddar.”

Oh. That made more sense. Jake felt his face turn red - of course Kevin wasn’t talking to him.

Cheddar’s ears twitched down - he was definitely pouting -, and Jake caved immediately, giving him scratches.

Kevin made a noise, and Jake looked up - whatever he was expecting, Kevin with a slight, amused smile wasn’t one of them.

Jake immediately withdrew his hand from Cheddar. “Sorry.” He mouthed - unsure of how else to react.

Kevin’s smile flickered - briefly turning sad - before returning to a neutral expression. “That’s quite alright, Jacob. I find your spoiling of Cheddar to be quite endearing.”

Jake wasn’t sure how to reply, so he just smiled tightly, quickly turning back to look at Cheddar - and away from Kevin, too. He didn’t really want to write a conversation out. Kevin wasn’t the type to carry the conversation by himself, after all, and while Jake rarely minded being the one to guide a chat, having the paper definitely limited his options.

They sat in silence for a while, before Jake heard Kevin shifting. He didn’t turn to face him - wasn’t entirely sure what he could really say, after all - so the sensation of a hand on his shoulder was enough to send him reeling.

Jake had elbowed Kevin in the sternum before he even realized he was moving.

Kevin stumbled back, hand on his chest.

Jake needed to run. He needed to run. He needed to-

Jake was frozen in place.

He realized he was repeating “sorry” like a mantra, voice coming out as an inaudible creaking sound. He tucked his arms into himself - he didn’t want to hurt Kevin - but felt tensed - waiting for him to hit him back.

“Jacob, it’s alright.” He said, raising his hands placatingly, but lowered them just as quickly when Jake flinched back at the motion.

Kevin hesitated for a moment - unsure of what to do - before sitting down again, on the floor this time. Jake would have made a joke about it, since Kevin was always so proper, but he was way too out of it to even begin to think it.

“You stopped petting Cheddar.” Kevin said finally, opting for a friendly tone - one hand still on his chest, but the other one tucked into a pocket.

Jake choked off his silent apologies, looking down. Cheddar was giving him puppy eyes. He looked back up at Kevin, wary to move.

Kevin seemed carefully unperturbed, tilting his head towards the dog. “I think he would prefer if you resumed providing affection.”

Jake nodded slowly, pulling one arm away from his body to touch Cheddar’s fur - eyes still fixed on Kevin, muscles beyond tensed.

But Kevin just watched Cheddar, almost boredly - although Jake could tell that there was a flicker of _something_ under the surface - and showed no signs of aggression towards him. Even after he’d hurt him.

Jake slowly felt his body start to relax, even as he remained wary. Normally, he would be able to outrun an opponent like Kevin - one of the benefits of being scrawny - but in this condition, he doubted he’d be able to. Not to mention, he couldn’t even defend himself because he was Holt’s husband.

Jake forced himself to look away from Kevin - he’d rather not see a blow coming, if he wasn’t going to be able to stop it - but Kevin just remained still. Didn’t even seem to care about what was occuring.

It must be a ploy.

But if it was… Jake supposed he deserved to suffer enough that it didn’t matter. He’d intruded on their hospitality, and then fucking _hurt_ Kevin. He deserved a lot worse than whatever he would get, that much was for certain.

Jake was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening - nerves lighting up once more.

Nerves which shot through the fucking roof when the door opened to reveal Captain Holt… with Roger alongside him.

Jake immediately tensed back up again, hands freezing in place on Cheddar. Cheddar, who was about to walk over to greet the newcomer, stilled as well.

“Son, there you are!” Roger said. “I was worried when you didn’t come back.”

Jake made a choked noise in his throat, although no sound came out.

Kevin stood abruptly. “Raymond, who is this… unexpected guest?”

“Captain Peralta. We met briefly, and Jacob indicated a familial bond at that time. When I arrived at Jacob’s apartment, I located the Captain outside of the door. It is my understanding that he was looking for Jacob.”

Jake stared, wide-eyed, eyes flicking between the three, while Cheddar - seeming to sense Jake’s growing unease - squirmed closer, practically onto his lap.

Holt frowned slightly. “Perhaps I was erroneous in bringing him here?” He asked slowly.

“Yes, Raymond, perhaps you were.” Kevin snapped - Holt raising an eyebrow at that. “This man is not welcome in our home.”

Roger laughed good-naturedly - the sound grating on Jake’s ears. “I’m just here to collect my boy. I was worried for him - and it seems I was in the right to, considering…” Roger frowned, “Whatever the hell happened to him.”

“Yes. I wonder what happened as well.” Kevin said through gritted teeth, stepping forward - partially blocking the line of sight between the two.

“Well, Jake’s always been a bit of a rascal. I’m sure whatever he was doing warranted it.” Roger shrugged, smile in place.

Holt turned, frowning more heavily. “I highly doubt anything Jacob could possibly do would warrant such abuse.”

“Well, I think I know my son more than you know your subordinate.” Roger replied coolly, “Besides, no one said anything about abuse.”

“It’s… a turn of phrase.” Holt replied slowly, turning to look at Jake. His expression was ambiguous, although Jake stared pleadingly back - wanting someone to interfere. Cheddar had migrated fully into his arms at this point.

Holt’s expression flickered, mouth tightening slightly, before turning back to Roger. “We should take this conversation outside, perhaps.”

“You’re right.” Roger acknowledged, “Jake, come on. I’ll drive you home.” He took a step towards Jake.

Kevin immediately blocked his path. “Perhaps you misunderstood my husband. You are not a welcome guest. Jacob is.” There was clear disdain in his voice.

Jake was distinctly confused - he highly doubted he was a welcome guest, or even a guest at all considering how he’d just assaulted Kevin - not to mention the fact that Kevin clearly didn’t even _like_ him. He only even tolerated Jake’s presence at the behest of Holt.

Regardless of all the evidence pointing to Kevin being eager to get Jake out of his home, Kevin was now clearly blocking Roger from approaching any further. Not only was he blocking Roger out, he was blocking Jake in - although, oddly, it didn’t feel quite as… trapped, this time. Instead, it felt distinctly protective.

“I firmly believe that it is in your best interest to depart.”

“What? Look, I’m just worried about Jake-”

“You’re the one who injured him, I daresay?” Holt spoke up, interrupting, frown fully solidifying on his face.

Roger scowled, “Is that what he’s been saying? Look, I-”

“No, he hasn’t ‘said’ anything! He can’t _say_ anything!” Kevin’s voice was slowly raising, “Because you choked him so fucking much that he is now incapable! So, perhaps, you should leave, before I proceed to injure you in turn!”

Roger looked like he was about to protest, but a hand on his shoulder courtesy of Holt seemed to change his mind.

“I didn’t do anything.” He said, even as he turned to leave. “I was just looking out for my son.”

“Clearly.” Holt replied coldly, closing the door in his face the instant Roger was over the threshold - who was casting one last glare at Jake.

Jake looked away, staring at Cheddar through slightly-watering eyes. He hated this. He hated being here. Now they _knew_.

Kevin let out a sigh. “I shouldn’t have cursed. It was incivil.”

“I daresay he was the one being incivil.” Holt pointed out.

There was a beat of silence - Jake either unwilling or unable to meet the gaze of either of them.

With a sudden bolt of courage - from where, he wasn’t entirely sure - Jake reached for the notepad, writing down “You threatening to beat him up was kinda funny.” 

“Well, I don’t regret saying it.” Kevin said firmly.

That made Jake look up, more from surprise than anything else. He scrawled a “Why?” down and showed it to Kevin.

Kevin looked sad.

“He caused you pain.” He said finally, almost gently. “That was wrong of him to have done.”

Jake scribbled down, “But I hurt you”.

Kevin shrugged. “That was an accident, whereas he intended to cause harm. According to most philosophical thought, intention is the root from which-”

He was thankfully interrupted from a monologue courtesy of Holt interrupting him.

“My apologies, Kevin, but what does Jacob refer to when he speaks of causing hurt to your person?”

Kevin looked unbothered. “I startled him, and Jacob reacted. A minor contusion to the chest - Raymond, I said it was _minor_ \- it doesn’t even hurt.”

Holt looked at Jake, who ducked his head, tensing up again and mouthing a “Sorry” into the silent room.

“We can discuss that later, Kevin.” Holt said finally, “In private.” He added after a moment.

“Jacob,” He began - Jake tensing, afraid of what would come next, “You should sit on a chair. It’s bad for your back to be on the floor like that.”

Jake quietly stood up, Cheddar fully in his arms.

“How endearing.” Kevin commented, coming forward and patting Cheddar on the head.

Kevin gave Jake a warm look as well. “You need not worry, Jacob. Our household is always open to you.”

Jake attempted to answer in a sarcastic, “Right”, but all that came out was a cough, as his throat decided to start getting angry at his continued use - and abuse - of it.

“Jacob, please stop attempting to speak.” Kevin said, as he guided Jake to an armchair that looked to have _excellent_ back support. “The more you do, the longer it will take to recover.”

“Sorry.” Jake mouthed, before wincing.

Kevin just raised an eyebrow, Jake grinning sheepishly back.

“I’ll go make sure _Captain_ Peralta has vacated the premises.” Holt said suddenly, turning to the door.

Jake picked up the notepad - which Kevin had brought over, it seemed - and scrawled out a “Sorry”, showing it to Kevin.

“It’s quite alright, Jacob.” Kevin said kindly.

Jake couldn’t help but notice that his smile seemed sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is technically another request, by charlotte8657 on tumblr! Total Request: _Ohhhhh! Would so so love it if you could write a B99 fic where Jake is with Kevin and Kevin goes all Dad mode whilst jake just sits there confused at how this is now his life even though he thought Kevin didn't like him. Bonus points if Jake just hugs cheddar through most of it!_
> 
> i don't normally make a request second chapter off of a different request fic but it just seemed to fit really well (since i kept including cheddar in chapter 1) so i did it this time. this request is from quite a while ago (i think nearly 6 months?) sorry about the wait, so i hope this fic was satisfactory! :D
> 
> please comment if you are so inclined! this is my 50th fic and i literally thrive off of comments so......... blease. comblents.


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